A  TKIBUTE 

TO 

3  THE    MEMORY 

OF 
/  * 

DAVIDC.RRODERICK: 

I 

BY  WALTER  G.  SHERWIN, 


OF  THE  CINCINNATI  BAR. 


There  is  Romance  in  Reality,  and  Reality  in  Romance. 


"  Slavery  is  old,  decrepit,  and  consumptive;  Freedom  is  young,  and 
strong,  and  vigorous." 

Broderick's  Speech,  March  22d,  1853. 

"THEY  HAVE  KILLED  ME  BECAUSE  I  WAS  OPPOSED  TO  THE  EXTENSION  OF 
SLAVERY  AND  A  CORRUPT  ADMINISTRATION." 

Spoken  after  the  Duel,  Sept.  13th,  1859. 


CINCINNATI: 

GAZETTE  COMPANY  STEAM  PRINTING  HOUSE. 
I860. 


THIS  TRIBUTE  was  written  on  account  of  the  sincere  regard 
the  Author  felt  for  the  heroism  and  manly  worth  of  the 
departed  Senator;  and  is  published  in  obedience  to  the 
earnest  solicitations  of  many  friends.  It  is  dedicated  to  the 
Citizens  of  the  Republic.  W.  G.  S . 

CINCINNATI,  June,  1860. 


Entered  according  to  the  Act  of  Congress,  on  the  15th  day  of  June,  1860, 
in  the  District  Court  for  the  Southern  District  of  Ohio. 


Address  the  Author, 

Box  525, 

CINCINNATI,  OHIO. 


A  TRIBUTE  TO  THE  MEMORY 


OF 


DAVID  C.  BRODERICK 


It  was  winter  in  the  Capital  City  of  the  new  Republic. 
The  afternoon  sun  shone  dimly.  Frosty  pictures,  in  mimic 
silver,  were  painted  on  the  window  panes.  Snow  carpeted 
the  streets,  and  cushioned  the  pavements,  and  lay  in  silence 
upon  the  roofs,  like  the  hovering  wing  of  the  protecting 
angel.  The  year  1819  was  drawing  to  a  close.  The  biting- 
cold  air  of  December,  from  the  far  North- West,  was  passing 
by  on  its  journey  to  the  sea.  Congress  was  in  session  in 
those  Halls  that  were  held  to  be  sacred  to  liberty.  The 
fathers  of  the  Republic  were  fast  passing  away,  but  their 
immediate  sons  had  met  to  legislate  for  the  weal  of  the  nation. 
James  Monroe  was  then  President ;  Daniel  D.  Tompkins  was 
President  of  the  Senate,  and  Henry  Clay  was  Speaker  of  the 
Lower  House. 

A  question  arose  for  their  deliberation — a  question  of  por- 
tentous moment,  which  called  for  great  ability — which  wrought 
up,  intensely,  the  earnestness  of  the  members,  and  filled  the 
galleries  with  anxious  listeners.  That  question  had  been 
introduced  near  the  close  of  the  last  session.  It  was  this : 
"  Shall  any  more  slave  States  be  admitted  into  this  Union  ?  " 

Jonathan  Roberts  was  there,  holding  in  his  hand  a  set  of 
resolutions  passed  by  the  Legislature  of  Pennsylvania, 
against  the  admission  of  more  slave  States.  Here  is  a  part 


of  the  preamble,  and  one  of  the  resolutions,  which  deserve 
to  be  immortal  in  history  : 

"A  measure  was  ardently  supported  in  the  last  Congress  of  the  United 
States,  and  will  probably  be  as  earnestly  urged  during  the  existing  session 
of  that  body,  which  has  a  palpable  tendency  to  impair  the  political  relations 
of  the  several  States  ;  which  is  calculated  to  mar  the  social  happiness  of 
the  present  and  future  generations ;  which,  if  adopted,  would  impede  the 
march  of  humanity  and  freedom  through  the  world,  and  would  affix  and 
perpetuate  an  odious  stain  upon  the  present  race  ;  a  measure,  in  brief, 
ivhich  proposes  to  spread  tJie  crimes  and  cruelties  of  slavery  from  the  banks  of 
tlie  Mississippi  to  tlie  sJiores  of  the  Pacific  Ocean. 

"  When  measures  of  this  kind  are  seriously  advocated  in  the  Rebublican 
Congress  of  America,  in  the  nineteenth  century,  the  several  States  are 
invoked,  by  the  duty  which  they  owe  to  the  Diety,  by  the  veneration  which 
they  entertain  for  the  memory  of  the  Founders  of  the  Republic,  and  by  a 
tender  regard  for  posterity,  to  protest  against  its  adoption ;  to  refuse  to  cove- 
nant with  crime ;  and  to  limit  the  range  of  an  evil  that  already  hangs  in 
awful  boding  over  so  large  a  portion  of  the  Union  ;  Therefore, 

"  JResolved,  That  the  Senators  and  Representatives  of  this  State  in  the 
Congress  of  the  United  States,  be  and  they  are  hereby  requested  to  vote 
against  the  admission  of  any  Territory  as  a  State  in  the  Union,  unless  the 

FURTHER  INTRODUCTION  OF  SLAVERY  OR  INVOLUNTARY   SERVITUDE — except 

for  punishment  of  crimes,  whereof  the  party  shall  have  been  duly  con- 
victed, SHALL  BE  PROHIBITED;  and  all  children  born  within  the  said 
Territory,  after  the  admission  into  the  Union  as  a  State,  SHALL  BE  FREE  ; 
but  may  be  held  to  service  until  the  age  of  twenty-five  years. " 

Thus  spoke  the  voice  of  Pennsylvania  on  the  floor  of  the 
United  States  Senate,  in  1819.  It  was  a  proud  day  for  that 
rising  nation  of  miners  and  hardy  mountaineers. 

Nathan  Sanford  and  Rufus  King,  of  New  York,  were 
there  to  assist  in  transforming  the  spirit  of  those  Pennsyl- 
vania resolutions  into  the  law  of  the  land.  Prentiss  Mellen 
was  there  to  cast  the  eloquence  and  vote  of  Massachusetts 
against  the  further  extension  of  slavery.  James  J.  Wilson, 
of  New  Jersey,  and  Benjamin  Ruggles,  of  Ohio,  were  there, 
and  many  other  great  and  honorable  men,  who  were  proud 
to  raise  their  voices  in  favor  of  "  limiting  the  range  of  the 
evil. "  Several  other  States  had  sent  in  similar  preambles 
and  similar  resolutions.  In  the  Lower  House  there  were 
James  Strong,  and  John  W.  Taylor,  and  Henry  E.  Storris, 


and  others,  of  New  York,  their  souls  all  full  of  honest  oppo- 
sition to  slavery  extension.  There  were  John  Sergeant  and 
Joseph  Hemphill,  of  Pennsylvania,  together  with  John  Holmes 
and  Ezekiel  Whitman,  from  Massachusetts,  and  Samuel  Foot, 
of  Connecticut,  and  many  more  with  similar  views. 


But  let  us  leave  the  Halls  of  Congress  to  notice  another 
event  which  was  then  transpiring  : 

Half  a  mile  from  the  Capital,  and  near  the  waters  of  the 
Potomac,  in  a  plain,  one-story  house,  a  child  was  just  then 
born.  A  child  of  obscure  parentage  ;  the  heir  of  poverty  ; 
the  son  of  a  stone-cutter ;  the  fore-doomed  companion  of 
toil.  His  father — a  plain,  rough,  but  thoughtful  man,  with 
the  leather  apron,  the  chisel  and  the  mallet — was  a  model  of 
industry,  hardy,  active  and  honest.  Finding  that  it  was  too 
cold  to  cut  stone  that  day,  he  had  gone  a  while  to  the  galleries 
of  the  Halls  of  Congress,  and  then  returned  to  welcome  his 
new-born  boy. 

The  mother  was  a  lady  of  more  than  usual  intelligence, 
amiable  and  active.  The  birth  of  the  boy  was  an  event  of 
small  importance,  but  it  was  the  beginning  of  a  bright  career. 
Let  us  trace  it.  When  the  fleeting  winter  of  Washington 
had  passed  away,  and  the  opening  buds  of  the  returned  spring 
were  nodding  in  the  sun,  the  plain  stone-cutter  went  again  to 
the  Halls  of  Congress,  to  hear  again  the  "Debates  on  Slavery 
Extension,"  and  bore  the  new-born  boy  in  his  arms.  I  see 
them  now  :  the  honest,  hardy  father,  the  intelligent  mother, 
and  the  boy.  They  are  seated  in  the  gallery  of  the  Lower 
House,  now  crowded  more  densely  than  ever. 

Mr.  King,  of  New  Jersey,  has  the  floor,  and  these  are  the 
first  words  that  fall  upon  the  ear  : — 

jjt  *  *  "We  have  arrived  at  an  awful  period  in,  the 
history  of  our  empire,  when  it  behooves  every  member  of 
this  House  now  to  pause  and  consider,  that  on  the  next  step 
we  take,  depends  the  fate  of  unborn  millions.  Now,  sir,  it 
is  to  be  tested,  whether  this  grand  and  hitherto  successful 


experiment  of  free  governments  is  to  continue,  or  break 
asunder  on  a  dispute  concerning  the  division  of  territory."  *  * 

Mr.  Stevens,  of  Connecticut,  followed,  and  spoke  of  the 
sectional  hatred,  and  danger  of  dissolution,  that  had  grown 
out  of  this  question  of  Slavery  Extension.  Here  is  one 
remark  : — 

*  *  #  n  j  (jon't  pretend  to  say  that  in  just  five  calender 
months  your  Union  will  be  at  an  end ;  your  Constitution  de- 
stroyed ;  your  proud  trophies,  won  in  the  most  gallant  combat, 
profaned  ;  and  the  glories  of  half  a  century — gained  by 
yourselves  and  your  departed  friends — made  the  sport  of  an 
envying  world.  But  I  do  say,  that  the  result  of  a  failure  to 
compromise  at  this  time,  would  be  to  create  ruthless  hatred 
and  irradicable  jealousy.  "  *  *  *  * 

Mr.  Mercer,  of  Virginia,  followed  with  great  earnestness. 

And  then  the  vote  was  taken  on  the  motion  to  strike  out 
the  clause  which  prohibited  the  extension  of  slavery.  It  was 
carried  by  a  MAJORITY  OF  THREE  !  Ninety  in  favor  of  striking 
it  out,  and  eighty-seven  opposed!  The  whole  bill — prohibitory 
clause  and  all — had  actually  PASSED  in  the  Lower  House 
during  the  previous  week ;  but  when  the  Senate  refused  to 
concur,  a  Compromise  was  the  only  alternative  by  which  to 
escape  the  threatened  dissolution.  So  that  the  vote  above 
mentioned,  was  to  strike  out  a  clause  that  had  ALREADY 
PASSED,  for  the  sake  of  modifying  it  so  as  to  secure  the  con- 
currence of  the  Senate  !  And  even  then,  with  the  positive 
refusal  of  the  Senate,  and  the  threatened  and  almost  certain 
dissolution  of  the  Union  before  them,  (more  certain  then  than 
it  can  be  now,)  the  bold  patriots  of  that  day  lost  the  prohibi- 
tory clause  only  by  THREE  MAJORITY  ! 

A  similar  clause,  prohibiting  the  extension  of  slavey,  was 
lost  in  the  Senate,  two  days  before,  by  only  TWO  MAJORITY  ! 
There  were  twenty-one  in  favor  of  the  clause,  and  twenty- 
three  against  it !  Thus  the  advocates  of  slavery  extension 
succeeded — by  threatening  Disunion  and  War.  And  the  grand 
sum  of  their  majorities,  in  both  Houses,  was  TWO  VOTES  M 


THREE  VOTES  ==  FIVE  VOTES  ! !      And  this  in  the  spring  of 
1820 — just  forty  years  ago  ! 

How  tender  the  tie  that  bound  the  Union  then !  How 
evenly  the  balances  were  poised  !  In  one  scale  was  placed 
the  extension  of  slavery,  union  and  peace,  and  in  the  other, 
limitation  of  slavery,  and  probable  disunion  and  war.  The 
former  balance  weighed  the  heaviest  by  only  FIVE  VOTES. — 
Both  Houses  together  stood  thus  : — 

For  extension,  union  and  peace  -  -    113 

For  limitation,  (disunion  and  war)  -  108 

And  this  only  after  it  was  found  to  be  IMPOSSIBLE  to  pass 
the  latter  ticket  in  the  Senate.  Before  the  Compromise  was 
talked  of,  there  was,  in  the  Lower  House,  a  clear  majority  of 
THREE  for  LIMITATION  !  And  the  united  Houses  stood  thus  : 

For  extension,  union  and  peace  -     110 

For  limitation,  (disunion  and  war)  -  -          111 

The  conflict  was  irrepressible  forty-five  years  ago ;  it  has 
been  irrepressible  ever  since. 


The  stone-cutter  and  his  bride,  filled  with  sorrow  and  with 
gloom,  on  account  of  the  unfortunate  termination  of  the 
struggle  for  ^  the  supremacy  of  liberty,  turned  away,  and 
sought  their  plain,  quiet  house,  on  the  bank  of  the  Potomac. 

Time  rolls  on  ;  and  the  father  is  carving  stones  which  are 
placed  in  the  new  wings  of  the  Capitol.  The  babe  becomes 
the  playful  boy.  Do  you  not  see  him  yonder,  throwing 
pebbles  into  the  Potomac  ?  Do  you  not  see  his  tangled, 
flaxen  hair,  and  his  deep  blue  eye  ?  How  gracefully  the 
pebbles  curve,  and  how  far  they  go  !  Stout  boy — the  son  of 
a  man  who  chisels  stone.  Now  he  wades  in  the  edge  of  the 
water — the  water  of  the  Potomac,  sacred  to  the  memory  of 
Washington !  Now  he  tries  to  swim  in  the  bayou  of  the 
stream,  and  the  elder  boys  show  him  how.  Now  he  climbs 
over  the  stones  where  his  father  is  at  work.  And  now  he 
wanders  far  along  the  stream,  beyond  the  confines  of  the 
city.  He  picks  the  laughing  flowers,  and  brings  them  to  his 


8 

mother  with  a  bounding  step.  The  devoted  mother  returns 
his  hearty  laughter,  kisses  his  happy  lips,  smells  and  admires 
his  bunch  of  Potomac  flowers,  and  talks  to  him  of  liberty. 

"  How  happy  they  who  are  free  to  wander  where  they  will ! 
How  happy  they,  of  the  bounding  footstep,  who  fear  no 
master!  who  are  free  to  gather  flowers  on  the  sunny  banks, 
and  bring  them  to  their  mother !  All  boys  are  not  so  free, 
my  son, — all  boys  are  not  so  free  !  Some — as  white  as  you 
— are  slaves,  and  dare  not  call  their  life  their  own  !  The 
great  men  of  the  nation,  in  yonder  Capitol,  were  debating 
about  slavery  on  the  day  that  you  were  born.  And  when 
you  were  scarcely  three  months  old,  they  voted  to  put  slavery 
into  another  new  State  !  The  contest  was  close :  the  speeches 
on  both  sides  were  earnest  and  eloquent ;  but  slavery  was  a 
little  the  strongest.  Your  father  and  I  were  there ;  and  you 
were  there  in  your  father's  arms !  It  was  the  first  debate 
that  ever  fell  upon  your  ear ;  the  first  vote  in  Congress  you 
ever  witnessed.  You  were  too  young  to  understand  it,  my 
son,  but  your  father  and  I  thought,  how  sorry  we  would  be, 
if  ever  our  darling  David  should  vote  for  extending  slavery 
into  the  free  countries  of  the  West !" 

Little  David  looked  earnestly  at  his  flowers  a  moment,  and 
then  at  his  mother,  and  said :  "Mother,  I  don't  want  them  to 
extend  slavery  into  any  more  new  States." 

The  truly  noble  mother  kissed  -her  boy  again  and  again, 
with  transports  of  delight !  She  had  moulded  his  little  heart 
to  the  love  of  liberty !  A  thrill  of  joy  lit  up  her  face,  and 
quickened  the  beating  of  her  heart !  A  tear  was  on  her 
handsome  cheek — a  tear  of  joy,  a  tear  of  triumph,  a  tear  of 
accomplished  hope — when  she  went  into  another  room,  and 
left  young  David  with  his  flowers.  He  was  a  little  more  than 
five  years  old,  bright  as  the  silvery  waters,  gay  as  the  flowers 
he  had  gathered,  happy  as  the  birds  that  sung  in  the  bower, 
and  as  free  as  they! 

Soon  the  parents  removed  to  New  York,  at  the  mouth  of 
the  Hudson,  on  the  margin  (3frthe-sea.  Here  little  David 


9 

went  to  school.  He  became  the  pride  of  his  playmates,  and 
the  pride  of  his  parents,  as  time  rolled  away.  Another  boy 
was  born — the  image  of  himself.  The  brothers  played  on  the 
banks  of  the  Hudson,  and  ripped  its  waves  with  their  little 
skiff.  They  loved  the  water,  and  were  proud  of  the  dripping 
oars  ?  Suddenly  the  father  died,  and  the  boys  inherited  the 
mallets  and  the  chisels.  But  little  other  property  was  left. 
The  widow  and  the  two  orphans  had  to  maintain  themselves. 
They  were  poor  ;  poor  laborers,  poor  stone-cutters,  in  the 
crowded  city  of  New  York.  But  they  were  not  ashamed  of 
poverty,  nor  ashamed  of  labor,  nor  ashamed  of  obscurity,  for 
it  was  the  greater  part  of  their  inheritance. 

David  was  bound  out  to  a  stone-cutter,  a  friend  of  his 
father.  For  five  years  he  toiled  to  learn  the  laborious  trade 
— the  trade  of  his  departed  father.  Five  years  among  the 
mallets,  the  chisels  and  the  stones  !  Five  years  with  the 
leather  apron  on  !  His  evenings  were  spent  in  reading  Poetry 
and  Eloquence ;  and  books  of  Practical  Science  were  by  no 
means  unfamiliar.  He  was  active,  and  energetic,  and  reso- 
lute, and  manly.  His  ambition  was  of  the  loftier  kind,  that 
wishes  to  deserve  all  it  obtains  ;  and  his  pride  was  the  pride 
which  accompanies  him  only,  who  is  conscious  of  his  power. 
Selfishness  and  vanity  had  no  part  in  his  composition.  The 
mother  also  died ;  died  poor,  died  happy ;  saying,  with  her 
latest  accents  :  "Farewell,  David  ;  be  true  to  the  principles 
that  your  parents  have  taught  you." 

He  joined  Fire  Company  No.  36,  and  became  its  Engineer. 
He  was  the  pride  of  the  Company,  bold,  intelligent  and  daring. 
The  Ninth  Ward  honored  him  and  loved  him  as  it  can  honor  and 
love  only  its  dearest  friend.  By-and-by,  the  brother  died  also, 
in  the  bloom  of  his  youth  and  beauty,  leaving  only  the  recollec- 
tion of  a  noble  heart,  and  his  share  in  the  skiff  and  the  dripping 
oars.  And  now  David  is  alone  in  the  world — the  last  of  his 
race !  No  father,  no  mother,  no  brother,  no  sister,  no  wife, 
no  children,  no  kindred  in  all  the  wide  world!  No  relatives 
to  welcome  his  coming  footsteps !  No  kindred  to  weep  at  his 
misfortune,  or  rejoice  at  his  success  !  He  has  nothing  to  live 


10 

for  now  but  Truth,  and  Intelligence,  and  Liberty.  He  medi- 
tates, while  he  rides  in  the  old  skiff  on  the  silvery  Hudson, 
dipping  and  pulling  the  treasured  oars. 

They  tell  us  he  sometimes  mingled  in  rough  company.  So 
he  did.  He  moved  among  the  firemen,  and  the  mechanics, 
and  the  laborers,  and  the  politicians  of  New  York.  He 
moved  in  that  company  because  there  was  among  them  less 
ostentation,  less  mock-dignity,  less  cold  selfishness,  less  of 
that  barren  family  pride,  which  too  often  follows,  like  a 
prowling  demon,  the  pathway  of  the  wealthy,  intelligent,  and 
otherwise  noble  aristocracy.  But  Broderick's  nature  did  not 
absorb  the  vices  of  his  company,  did  not  adopt  them.  If  he 
did  not  condemn  them  by  his  conduct,  he  at  least  refused  to 
imitate  them,  and  scorned  to  encourage  them.  His  presence 
among  his  associates,  with  his  manly  demeanor  and  affable 
manners,  often  prevented  an.d  repressed  coarseness  and  vul- 
garity. They  learned  of  him,  not  he  of  them.  Would  you 
have  the  man  of  talent  and  ability  shun  the  cottage  of  the 
peasant,  and  the  workshop  of  the  mechanic,  and  refuse  to 
extend  the  hand  of  brotherly  friendship  and  encouragement 
to  the  honest,  faithful,  but  neglected  laboring  man  ?  If  you 
would,  you  are  no  friend  of  the  human  race,  and  your  heart 
is  a  stranger  to  real  democracy.  Go  among  the  unfortunate 
and  the  neglected,  and  the  lowly.  Let  your  light  shine 
among  them  as  Broderick  did.  Respect  always  your  fellow- 
inen.  Honor  them  when  they  are  right,  instruct  them  when 
they  are  wrong.  Restrain  them  when  they  are  fanatical, 
and  encourage  them  when  they  despond.  This  Broderick 
did,  and  did  it  out  of  the  spontaneous  promptings  of  a  noble 
heart. 

He  reaches  the  age  of  manhood.  The  flaxen  locks  have 
changed  to  a  glossy  chestnut  brown,  and 'his  happy  face  is 
saddened  by  the  shade  of  loneliness  and  care.  He  plunged 
deeper  into  Literature  ;  becomes  more  and  more  devoted  to 
Science,  and  studies,  with  diligence,  the  art  of  Legislation. — 
Among  his  associates  he  becomes  a  star  of  intelligence,  and 
a  star  of  unusual  brilliancy,  but  he  shines  alone.  No  rela- 


11 

tives  hail  him  as  the  genius  of  their  name.  At  twenty-seven 
years  of  age,  he  becomes  a  candidate  for  Congress.  He  goes 
into  the  contest  with  his  armor  on,  but  he  goes  alone.  No 
blood-bound  champions  to  advocate  his  cause,  no  friendly 
tongue  to  defend  his  honor.  Like  some  fabulous  warrior  in 
the  legends  of  mythology,  he  battled  with  them  single-handed. 
But  he  belongs  to  the  Democratic  party,  in  a  Democratic 
city,  and  that  alone  should  insure  his  success.  But  no  !  He 
is  too  true  to  the  sentiment  he  gave  his  mother  twenty-two 
years  ago,  when  he  held  in  his  hand  the  bunch  of  Potomac 
flowers  !  Too  true  to  the  dying  request  of  his  mother!  His 
speeches  have  too  much  independence  and  too  much  liberty 
in  them  !  And  they  are  filled  with  too  much  Truth  and  teem 
with  too  much  Intelligence !  He  is  beaten  in  a  district  where 
his  own  party  has  the  majority  !  What  is  the  reason  ?  The 
reason  is  because  while  his  party  is  drifting  away  from  its 
ancient  landmarks,  and  fast  becoming  a  Slavery  Extending 
Party,  he  remains  a  bulwark  of  Liberty.  He  stands  where 
Nathan  Sanford,  and  Rufus  King,  and  Jonathan  Roberts,  and 
Prentiss  Mellen,  and  James  J.  Wilson,  and  Benjamin  Ruggles, 
and  James  Strong,  and  John  W.  Taylor,  and  Henry  R.  Storris? 
and  many  other  great  and  noble  patriots  stood,  on  the  day 
that  he  was  born !  He  is  beaten,  because  he  is  too  good  a 
patriot,  and  too  ivise  a  man,  for  the  wandering  Democratic 
party  to  hold  fellowship  with  !  While  the  Mexican  War  is  in 
progress,  and  the  Democratic  party  makes  new,  and  desperate 
and  successful  efforts  to  extend  the  dominion  of  slavery,  the 
defeated  candidate,  in  retirement,  plunges  deeper  into  liter- 
ature and  learning,  poetry  and  eloquence. 


While  thus  engaged,  gold  is  discovered  in  California.  A 
tide  of  emigrants  begins  to  pour  over  the  plains  of  the  West, 
and  to  drift  around  Cape  Horn.  All  eyes  are  turned  to 
California  !  The  Eldorado  of  the  West — the  virgin  soil  that 
power  and  tyranny  have  never  stained ;  a  romantic  wilder- 
ness, pure,  unsullied  and  sweet  as  it  could  have  been  on 


creation's  morn  !     Thither  goes  the  tide  !     Some  go  for  gold, 
some  for  romance,  some  for  passtime,  and  some  with  the 
patriotic  object  of  helping  to  mould  the  institutions  of  the 
newly-settled  wilderness.      David  C.  Broderick  leaves   the 
home  of  his  youth,  and  goes  with  the  tide.     Do  you  not  see 
him  yonder  on  the  billow,  floating  around  Cape  Horn  ? — 
Farewell,  New  York  !  one  of  the  proudest  names  that  ever 
adorned    your  annals,  is  leaving  you  forever  !      He  floats 
away,  over  nine  thousand  miles  of  ocean,  and  lands  in  the 
virgin  wilderness,  on  the  coast  of  the  Pacific.     The  country 
is  too  new  to  warrant  the  establishment  of  any  government. 
So  the  orphan  son  of  the  stone-cutter,  the  artizan,  the  scholar 
and  the  politician,  at  the  age  of  thirty-one  years,  turns  his 
attention  to  smelting  gold.     The  yellow  sands  yield  up  to 
him  their  stores  of  shining  metal,  as  books  and  meditation 
have  yielded  their  treasures  of  thought.     He  builds  a  house 
in  San  Francisco,  collects  a  library  of  books,  and  seems  to 
feel  at  home.    -.When  a  government  is  formed,  he  is  elected 
to  the  Legislature.       His  sentiments — differing  from    the 
majority  of  his  party — are  always  for  Liberty.     His  influence 
is  felt.     His  voice  is  heard  with  respect.     He  is  foremost  in 
the  counsels  of  the  Golden  State.     The  Legislature  assemble 
to  elect  a  man  to  represent  them  in  the  Senate  of  the  United 
States,  and  the  son  of  the  stone-cutter  is  a  candidate  !     He 
is  thirty-four  years  of   age,  and  he  has  not  forgotten  the 
dying  wish  of  his  mother.     He  is  defeated  again,  and  chiefly 
by  the  influence  of   his  own  party  leaders,  who  hate  him, 
because  he  will  not  be  corrupt  ! 

He  is  a  careful  business  man,  and  always  promptly  on  the 
spot  at  the  appointed  hour.  His  Legislative  duties  and  his 
own  private  affairs  absorb  his  attention,  while  two  more 
years  roll  on.  His  nights  are  spent  in  pouring  over  volumes 
of  poetry  and  literature,  and  in  making  himself  master  of 
legislation.  This  mental  toil  wears  on  his  strength.  His 
cheeks  grow  paler,  and  his  eyes  grow  brighter.  Where  now 
is  the  skiff  and  the  dripping  oars  ?  They  are  away  on  the 
shores  of  the  rising  sun.  He  sometimes  feels  the  force  of 


13 

his  lonely  condition.  He  sometimes  gives  way  to  despond- 
ency. And  how  can  he  help  feeling  it  ?  How  can  he  avoid 
giving  way,  when  he  knows  and  feels  himself  in  the  wide 
world  alone  ?  He  is  a  stranger  in  a  land  of  strangers.  His 
kindred  are  in  their  graves.  The  blood  of  the  Broderick 
family  flows  in  no  veins  but  his.  He  is  alone — alone — ALONE  ! 
He  has  no  fortune  save  his  Integrity,  his  Talent,  his  Industry, 
his  Enterprise,  and  his  Economy,  and  the  little  property  these 
qualities  have  won  for  him  in  the  valleys  of  the  rugged  West. 

Again  he  is  a  candidate  for  the  United  States  Senate.  This 
time  he  is  elected !  He  is  a  Senator  at  thirty-seven  years 
of  age !  There  wTas  a  lull — a  very  brief,  one — in  the  tem- 
pestuous activity  of  the  corrupt  party  in  power,  and  that  lull 
allowed  an  honest  man  to  take  his  place  among  them  !  A 
proud  day  for  him,  and  a  prouder  day  for  the  nation !  With 
his  credentials  in  his  pocket,  he  embarks  once  more  upon  the 
blue-waved  sea.  Welcome  the  returning  hero  !  Welcome 
the  bold  Pioneer !  Along  the  briny  Pacific,  over  the 
Isthmus  and  across  the  Gulf,  he  hastens  away  toward  the 
land  of  his  boyhood  and  the  city  of  his  birth. 

He  takes  rooms  next  door  to  the  Kirkwood  House  on 
Pennsylvania  Avenue.  When  not  engaged  in  Legislation 
you  will  find  him  there,  for  he  mingles  little  in  society. 
What  has  he — the  last  of  his  race — to  do  with  the  gaities  and 
frivolities  of  Washington  ?  But  his  rooms  are  the  resort  of 
many  distinguished  men.  He  receives  them  kindly,  and  they 
are  all  proud  to  know  him,  and  to  take  his  hand  in  friendship. 
He  goes  to  the  Senate,  and  his  presence  is  an  era  in  that 
aristocratic  chamber.  The  corruption  of  the  "jobbers  and 
land-sharks "  who  are  preying  on  the  treasury  and  public 
lands  of  the  West,  are  by  him  exposed.  Dishonesty  and 
chicanery  tremble  at  his  coming.  Bribery  and  knavery  fear 
the  glance  of  his  dark  blue  eye,  for  he  is  a  vigilant,  active 
and  powerful  opponent.  Honest  and  noble  men  soon  avow 
their  friendship  for  him,  and  skulking  knaves  soon  learn  to 
tremble  in  his  presence.  For  two  years  he  sits  a  Senator. 
For  two  years  he  deals  out  heavy  blows  against  usurpation 


14 

and  trickery,  and  exposes  the  fell  schemes  of  demagogues.- 
For  two  years  he  opposes  every  attempt  to  fasten  slavery  on 
the  Territories — scorning  alike  the  Administration  and  its 
pliable  and  hypocritical  abettors ;  self-styled  Democrats,  once 
honest,  perhaps,  and  faithful,  but  now  tyrants  and  tyrants' 
tools,  in  the  Lecompton  perfidy  and  its  treacherous  substitute, 
the  English  swindle.  For  two  years  he  re-echoes  the  senti- 
ments in  regard  to  the  freedom  of  the  West,  and  revives  the 
true  principles  of  progress,  as  they  had  been  first  expounded 
in  those  same  halls,  in  the  days  of  James  Monroe.  The 
childish  but  noble  wish  he  made  when  he  brought  to  his 
mother  the  little  bunch  of  Potomac  flowers,  he  now  advocates 
with  manly  eloquence  ! 

On  the  22d  day  of  March,  1858,  when  Bayard,  and  D.ouglas, 
and  Toombs,  and  Davis,  and  Pugh,  were  giving  their  opinions 
to  the  world  on  the  subject  of  extending  slavery,  the  voice 
of  Broderick,  still  true  to  liberty,  as  the  needle  to  the  polar 
star ;  true  to  the  last  wish  of  his  mother,  true  to  the  highest 
interests  of  humanity,  and  free  to  proclaim,  frankly,  the 
native  promptings  of  his  heart,  was  the  most  eloquent  among 
them  all.  A  brief  extract  will  show  the  manner  in  which 
the  mechanic — the  son  of  the  Washington  stone-cutter,  the 
lone  orphan  boy  cf  New  York — replied  to  the  proud  minions 
of  aristocratic  power  : — 

*  *  *  >;<=  «  jn  the  pagsage  Of  that  (Kansas-Nebraska) 
bill,  the  people  of  the  North  felt  that  a  great  wrong  had  been 
committed  against  their  rights.  This  was  a  mistaken  view. 
The  people  of  the  North  should  have  rejoiced  and  applauded 
the  Senator  from  Illinois,  for  having  accepted  Mr.  Dixon's 
amendment.  The  South  should  have  mourned,  the  removal  of 
that  barrier,  the  removal  of  which  will  let  in  upon  her  feeble 
and  decaying  institutions,  MILLIONS  OF  FREE  LABORERS.  In 
the  passage  of  that  bill,  the  rampart  that  protected  slavery  in 
the  Southern  Territories,  WAS  BROKEN  DOWN.  Northern 
opinions,  Northern  ideas,  and  Northern  institutions,  were 
invited  to  the  contest  for  the  possession  of  those  Territories. 


15 

How  foolish  for  the  South  to  hope  to  contend,  with  success, 
in  such  an  encounter  !  SLAVERY  is  OLD,  DECREPIT  AND  CON- 
SUMPTIVE ;  FREEDOM  IS  YOUNG,  AND  STRONG  AND  VIGOROUS. 

The  one  is  naturally  STATIONERY,  AND  LOVES  EASE  ;  the  other 
is  MIGRATORY  AND  ENTERPRISING.  There  are  six  millions  of 
people  interested  in  the  extension  of  slavery  ;  and  there  are 
twenty  millions  of  freemen  to  contend  for  those  Territories, 
out  of  which  to  carve  themselves  homes  where  labor  is 
honored." 

Bold  words  !  against  the  majority  of  his  own  party  !  Mr. 
Hammond  had  said  : — 

"  In  all  social  systems,  there  must  be  a  class  to  do  the 
menial  duties,  to  perform  the  drudgeries  of  life.  That  is,  a 
class  requiring  but  a  low  order  of  intellect,  and  but  little  skill. 
Its  requisites  are  vigor,  docility,  fidelity.  Such  a  class  you 
must  have,  or  you  would  not  have  that  other  class,  which 
leads  progress,  civilization  and  refinement.  *  *  *  It 
constitutes  the  very  mud-sills  of  society  and  political  govern- 
ment, and  you  might  as  well  attempt  to  build  a  house  in  the 
air,  as  to  build  either  the  one  or  the  other,  except  on  these 
mud-sills.  We  use  them  for  our  purpose,  and  call  them 
slaves.  *  *  *  I  will  not  characterize  that  class  at  the 
North  by  that  term;  but  you  have  it;  it  is  there;  it  is 
everywhere  ;  it  is  eternal.  *  *  *  Our  slaves  are  Hack — 
of  another  and  inferior  race.  #  '*  *  Yours  are  wJiite — 
of  your  own  race.  You  are  brothers  of  one  blood.  Our 
slaves  do  not  vote  ;  we  give  them  no  political  power.  Yours 
do  vote,  and  being  in  the  majority,  they  are  the  depositories 
of  all  your  political  power." 

"Sir,"  said  Broderick,  "I  am  glad  the  Senator  has  spoken 
thus.  It  may  have  the  effect  of  arousing,  in  the  workingmen, 
that  spirit  which  has  been  lying  dormant  for  centuries.  It 
may  also  have 'the  effect  of  arousing  the  two  hundred  thousand 
men,  with  pure  skins,  in  South  Carolina,  who  are  now  degraded 
and  despised  by  thirty  thousand  aristocratic  slaveholders.  * 
*  *  I  am,  sir,  with  one  exception,  the  youngest  in  years, 
of  the  Senators  upon  this  floor.  It  is  not  long  since  I  served 


16 

an  apprenticeship  of  five  years,  at  one  of  the  most  laborious 
mechanical  trades  pursued  by  man — a  trade  that,  from  its 
nature,  devotes  its  followers  to  thought,  but  debars  him  from 
conversation.  I  would  not  have  alluded  to  this,  if  it  were 
not  for  the  remarks  of  the  Senator  of  South  Carolina,  and  the 
thousands  who  know  that  I  am  the  son  of  an  artizan,  and 
have  been  a  mechanic,  would  feel  disappointed  in  me  if  I  did 
not  reply  to  him.  *  *  *  The  class  of  society  to  whose 
toil  I  was  born,  under  our  form  of  government,  will  control 
the  destinies  of  this  nation.  If  I  were  inclined  to  forget  my 
connection  with  them,  or  to  deny  that  I  sprang  from  them, 
this  chamber  would  not  be  the  place  in  which  I  could  do 
either.  While  I  hold  a  seat  here,  I  have  but  to  look  up  at  the 
beautiful  capitals  adorning  the  pilasters  that  support  this 
roof,  to  be  reminded  of  my  father's  talent,  and  to  see  his 
handiwork.  *  *  *  I  made  my  new  abode  among 
strangers  where  labor  is  honored.  I  had  left  without  regret. 
There  remained  to  me  no  tie  of  blood  to  bind  me  to  any  being 
in  existence.  If  I  fell  in  the  struggle  for  reputation  and 
fortune,  there  was  no  relative  on  earth  to  mourn  my  fall. 
But  the  people  of  California  elevated  me  to  the  highest 
office  within  their  gift.  *.'**-•*  Almost  the  entire  partisan 
press  of  the  State  was  subsidized,  by  government  money  and 
patronage,  to  oppose  my  election.  I  sincerely  hope,  sir,  the 
time  will  come,  when  such  speeches  as  that  from  the  Senator 
of  South  Carolina,  will  be  considered  a  lesson  to  the  laborers 
of  the  nation. " 

Such  was  the  response  he  gave  to  the  haughty  advocates 
of  the  Extension  of  Slavery.  Such  was  the  bold  and  noble 
answer  a  "mechanic"  gave  to  the  heartless  despot  who  dared 
to  speak,  with  such  contempt,  about  the  laborers  of  the  land ! 
Let  him  not  speak  so  lightly  of  the  sons  of  industry,  the 
source  whence  flows  our  so  great  prosperity.  'How  dares  he 
thus  insult  the  people  ?  How  dares  he  speak  thus  of  the 
industrious  and  hardy  laborer,  forgetful  that  he  himself  occu- 
pies the  position  of  pauper  ?  One  who  lives  upon  the  earnings 
of  another  is  si  pauper.  And  I  am  told  that  Hammond  lives 


17 

chiefly  upon  the  earnings  of  his  slaves  and  the  federal 
treasury.  The  industrious  and  honest  mechanic  is  ten  thou- 
sand times  more  noble  than  the  pauper,  and  especially  one 
who  is,  at  the  same  time,  an  arrogant  and  impious  tyrant ! 


Broderick  returns  to  the  Golden  State.  Returns  to  engage 
in  one  more  campaign,  and  then — afterwards — to  die  !  Fare- 
well, Washington  !  farewell,  Senate  !  you  have  looked  your 
last  upon  the  true  representative  of  the  nation's  industrious 
millions.  Farewell  Hammond,  and  Toombs,  and  Davis,  your 
torrent  of  vindictive  arrogance  may  hereafter  have  full  sweep, 
for  the  chosen  champion  of  labor,  the  defender  of  the 
mechanic,  the  stone-cutter's  son,  who  toiled  for  his  passage 
to  eminence,  is  passing  away  for  ever !  His  noble  words 
have  failed  to  soften  your  iron  hearts.  He  is  "  the  last  of 
his  race,  "  but  do  not  forget,  I  implore  you,  that  he  represents 
the  laboring  millions  of  the  land.  They  will  avenge  the 
obloquy  you  would  heap  upon  his  memory.  They  will  defend 
his  fame. 

He  fights  tho  battles  of  liberty  in  the  Democratic  ranks, 
during  one  more  campaign.  But  at  its  close,  a  combination 
of  assassins,  composed  of  men  who  are  wedded  to  slavery 
extension,  prepare  to  take  his  life.  Among  that  banditti  of 
villians,  Judge  Terry  is  the  best  shot — his  the  most  deadly 
aim  !  He  resigns  his  seat  on  the  Supreme  Bench  of  California 
to  commit  murder !  He  well  knew  that  the  hand  that  was 
familiar  with  the  Mallet  and  Chisel  by  day,  and  the  volume  of 
Literature  by  night,  could  be  no  match  for  the  practiced  duelist, 
the  daytime  gambler,  and  the  midnight  reveler.  lie  sent  the 
challenge  Avith  a  demon's  grin  upon  his  face — an  easy  prey  ! 
— and  the  prospect  of  a  President's  reward  !  No  doubt  it  was 
the  money  of  James  Buchanan,  or  the  promise  of  Federal 
patronage,  that  lured  the  assassin  to  the  deed  !  "No  doubt?" 
That  supposition  was  fully  confirmed,  when  James  Buchanan 
appointed  Calhoun  Benham,  Judge  Terry's  second,  to  the 
office  of  District  Attorney  for  the  State  of  California,  a  very 


•18 

responsible  office,  with  a  large  salary.  The  aider  and  abettor 
of  murder  is  thus  rewarded  !  Broderick  accepted  the  chal- 
lenge— the  greatest  mistake  of  his  life, — the  mistake,  on 
account  of  which  so  many  thousand  hearts  are  pained.  But 
he  well  knew  that  the  assassins,  in  terrible  numbers,  lurked 
along  his  pathway,  and  waited  for  his  coming.  He  had  dared 
to  defend  justice  and  the  right,  against  the  omnipotent  will 
of  the  slavery  extending  power  ;  and  its  skulking  minions, 
at  once  covetous  and  demoniac,  were  eaer  for  his  blood. 


I  see  him  go  the  solitary  valley.  It  is  a  lonely  spot — an 
open  space  in  a  thicket  of  trees  and  bushes — a  glade  in  the 
wild- wood,  sacred  to  his  memory  for  ever  more.  It  is  the 
13th  day  of  September.  1859.  It  is  early  morning  and  the 
sun  is  brightly  shining.  It  has  just  risen  above  the  summit 
of  the  Coast  Range  Mountains,  fringing  their  rocky  ledges 
with  a  frost-work  of  silver.  Its  golden  rays  fall,  laughingly 
and  gently,  upon  the  lonely  spot.  Too  bright  a  morning  for 
so  dark  a  deed  !  A  soft  autumnal  breeze  fans  the  faces  of  that 
frenzied,  sad,  deluded  group  of  men.  The  smallest  zephyr, 
just  enough  to  make  the  leaves  rustle  on  the  slimest  branches, 
just  enough  to  cause  one  poor  leaf  to  fall  upon  Broderick's 
shoulder,  and  then  all  is  still.  A  few  terror-stricken  men 
gather  in  breathless  silence  around  them. 

o 

Why  did  he,  alas  !  why  did  he  accept  that  challenge  ?  He 
receives  the  proffered  Derringer  pistol,  though  he  knows  he 
cannot  use  it !  Why,  Oh  !  why  ?  He  brushes  the  little  pink 
leaf  from  his  shoulder  carelessly,  and  pulls  the  brim  of  his 
Palo  Alto  hat  down  over  his  brow  with  a  steady  hand,  as  if 
no  anxious  thought  disturbed  his  peace.  That  leaf — the 
emblem  of  himself — fallen  before  its  time  ;  fallen  before  the 
chilly  frosts  of  autumn,  or  the  rude  winds  of  winter  had  come 
with  their  destroying  forces,  to  garner  the  harvest  of  the 
summer— that  poor  leaf  fluttered  to  the  ground  and  lay  still 
at  his  feet.  One  careless  glance  at  that  tiny  pink  leaf,  and 
then  he  turns  his  face  eastward,  to  look  his  last  upon  the 


19 

It  hangs  over  Washington  and  New  York,  a 
lamp  in  the  lofty  sky,  casting  its  rays  upon  the  home  of  his 
childhood,  and  the  city  of  his  youth  !  Thy  hand,  oh  !  David, 
shall  never  pluck  the  Potomac  flowers  again.  The  skiff  and 
the  oars  will  be  floating  on  the  deep,  but  the  orphan  boy 
will  never  behold  them  more.  The  Hudson  and  the  ocean — 
like  thy  kindred,  ah  !  Broderick  !  Broderick  ! — the  land  and 
the  sea  are  passing  from  thy  view  for  ever ! 

The  shrill  crack  of  the  pistol  echoes  in  the  silent  wood.  A 
deep,  despairing  groan  arises  from  that  assembly  of  pale  and 
trembling  spectator*.  He  reels, — he  falls, — the  shades  of 
<leath  are  gathering  around  his  brow  !  His  cheeks  grow  pale; 
his  pulse  beats  faintly ;  his  race  is  almost  run.  He  speaks, 
and  these  are  his  words — words  that  should  haunt  the  per- 
petrators of  this  fell  deed  till  the  end  of  time — words  that 
should  arouse  the  slumbering  millions  of  freemen,  and  bid 
them  arise  and  defend  their  endangered  liberty  and  their 
sacred  honor  : — "  THEY  HAVE  KILLED  ME  BECAUSE  I  WAS 

OPPOSED    TO    THE     EXTENSION'    OF    SLAVERY     AXD    A     CORRUPT 

ADMINISTRATION.  " 

He  lingers  awhile,  talking  brokenly  to  his  attendants — then 
dies  !  Multitudes,  stricken  wifa^terror  and  overwhelmed 
with  grief,  silently  gather  round  His  bier.  San  Francisco  is 
in  mourning.  The  news  spreads  over  the  nation,  and  the 
nation  is  in  mourning.  Col.  Baker's  eloquent  oration  has 
reached  the  hearts  of  millions.  That  mountain  tomb  will  be 
sacred  in  the  memory  of  freemen.  His  career  is  ended  ;  his 
voice  is  hushed;  his  tongue  is  silent.  The  stout  hand  is 
powerless  ;  the  faithful  heart  is  sleeping  its  eternal  sleep  ; 
and  the  daring  spirit  has  gone  to  the  land  of  rest.  But  is  he 
/lead  V  Is  his  bold  example  forgotten  in  the  minds  of  men  ? 
Can  his  deeds  be  erased  from  the  nation's  history  ?  Can  his 
dying  words  remain  unheeded  ?  Are  they  not  before  us  ever, 
a  bright  example  for  us  all  to  emulate,  an  admonition  to  the 
slumbering  patriot,  and  a  warning  to  the  slavery  extender, 
who  would  even  murder  to  retain  their  power  ? 

Let  the  devotees  of  industry,  the  freemen  of  the  nation, 


y^t-lTO 

remember  that  *'  eternal  vigilance  is  the  price  of  liberty, '' 
and  that  "  activity  is  the  only  guarantee  of  success. "  And 
while  the  recollection  of  these  sublime  maxims  are  fresh  in  l 
the  memory,  a<ftd  fall  upon  the  heart  thrillingly,  as  the  battle 
blast  of  the  bugle  falls  upon  the  soldier's  ear,  they  will  not 
forget  the  noble  Broderick,  who  was  slain  for  having  been 
u  opposed  to  the  extension  of  Slavery  and  a  corrupt  Admin- 
istration. "•  . 


He  worked  his  way  from  nothing, 

With  no  friends',  no  wealth,  no  name  ; 
But  alone— alone — he  mounted 

To  the  zenith  of  his  fame. 
He  met  the  savage  tyrants 

And  opposed  them  in  their  den, 
And  bled, — because  he  honored 

His  lowly  fellow-men  ! 

They  have  forged  their  cursed  fetters, 

And  with  fierce  and  bloody  hands, 
They  would  extend  the  Black  Destroyer 

O'er  the  sacred  Western  Lands, 
But  we  trust  in  you,  Republicans. 

To  check  its  onward  flow  ; 
To  stop  that  sum  of  villainies — 

That  embodiment  of  woe. 

Oh,  defend  the  starry  banner, 

And  be  heroes  in  the  fight, 
Where  the  object  is  to  battle 

For  Liberty  and  Right. 
Swell,  swell  your  mighty  columns, 

And  let  every  man  be  strong, 
Against  the  Hoard  of  Demons 

Who  would  Murder  for  the  Wrong. 

Keep  keep  the  Western  Country 

For  the  Honest  and  the  Free  ! 
Untrammeled — as  the  mountain  winds  ! 

Unfettered  as  the  sea  ! 
Give,  give  it  to  the  Sons  of  Toil, 

And  the  Daughters  of  the  Brave  ; 
Who  love  the  name  of  Laborer, 

Brt  scorn  the  name  of  Slave  ! 


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